I will never, never, ever build my character
by samanddianefan10
Summary: Set in modern times. Calvin's wish to become rich and famous and idolized has come true. Even parents and Hobbes are willing to cater to his every move. but the more of his wants he gets, the more Calvin starts to think that maybe things weren't so bad before.


Calvin, slamming the door to his bedroom after a rough day at school, was in a bad mood for several reasons. As he glanced at Hobbes reclining so lazily on top of his unmade bed, reading Calvin's previously unread latest edition of Captain Napalm, at first he wanted to lash out at Hobbes. After all, Hobbes was not only not supposed to be reading his comics, but he was _supposed _to have greeted Calvin at the doorway to the house by pouncing, leading to a wrestling match, insults, pouting, hurt feelings, and more than a few hugs and smiles. But no. Hobbes was too lazy to get out of bed for even the most mundane task. God, Calvin couldn't stand people who were too lazy to do what they were told. (_Oh, the irony_).

But even more pressing, and the bigger reason that Calvin had looked forward to Hobbes' daily pounce, was Suzie Derkins. Yet again, Suzie had gotten him in trouble, and he'd not only had to sit in the corner while Miss Wormwood actually showed something interesting on the television (he'd suspected by her overwhelming presence of musky perfume that he'd snuck off to the teacher's lounge for a sip of her friend, old Jim Beam mixed with her usual gastric cocktail for the ulcers she seemed to have developed, followed by inhaling half a pack of unfiltered cigarettes)- a Star Wars video. How that was educational, Calvin didn't know nor did he care. All he knew was that everyone, especially Suzie, was having _fun _while was stuck in the corner.

For a while, if he tried really, really, really hard to be quiet, he could hear the dialogue. Of course, he became so caught up in the dialogue that he grabbed a pencil off of Miss Wormwood's desk and challenged Suzie to a battle of the light sabers. It wasn't his fault that as a girl, Suzie was not his equal, and so out of her own desperate fear for her life, she ratted on Calvin.

That led to an afternoon at the principal's office, complete with the slimy remnants of whatever lunch was supposed to have been that day. Some kind of fertilizer, he supposed, judging from the aroma.

Oh, he hated that Suzie. Calvin just knew he had to find a way to make her pay for her crimes. Not to mention, his mom had lectured him and had promised him she'd be telling Dad when he came home. So no tv or outdoor time for Calvin _that _day.

If only he were rich and famous, he wouldn't have to answer to anyone. He could tell the world just what he thought of it, and not only would the press and his fans buy it, they'd all line up to buy whatever line of baloney he would come out with next. Fame! Fortune! Merchandising and licensing fees! Clothing lines made outside the country at ridiculously low prices, and then his fans, just by seeing Calvin's name or picture on it, would pay hundreds of dollars just to wear a t shirt that identified them as being a fan of Calvin's!

Best of all, he could support his own lifestyle and therefore he could leave Mom and Dad in the dust. If they were nice to him, maybe, just maybe, he'd come home for Christmas now and then. If he wasn't too busy counting his money, playing his video games, watching early screenings of blockbusters in his own private movie theater, or bowling in his own alley in his mansion. Yeah, maybe he'd visit them.

And Suzie and Moe and Miss Wormwood, they'd all be sorry for ever being mean to him. Calvin would have so much money he'd be able to hire a bodyguard...maybe a twelve year old who was even taller and bigger and dumber than Moe, and then Moe would repay ever quarter he'd ever taken from Calvin.

So Calvin crawled into bed, grabbing one of his old Captain Napalms, as Hobbes gave him the tiger's killer eye and showed off his mandibles of death when Calvin tried to take the newest one from him, and closed his eyes. He'd rather sleep the day away than to do his homework.

Calvin had just settled into his slumber when the sound of a bell woke him up.

Groggily, he opened his eyes and saw a tuxedo-clad Hobbes standing before him, presenting Calvin with a silver tray with cookies and chocolate milk.

Calvin rubbed his eyes. "Hobbes?" he murmured.

"Yes, my lord. As per custom, I took it upon myself to serve you your daily serving of cookies and chocolate milk. I trust you find this to your liking," Hobbes bowed his head slightly.

Calvin just stared at Hobbes, but still accepted the treats. He wasn't sure what had gotten into the frisky feline, but hey, he sure wasn't going to complain. About time _someone _recognized Calvin's true place in the world.

Before Calvin could further indulge in the treats that his parents would never allow him to have, the sounds of cars honking and people screaming alerted Calvin, and he peeked out the window to investigate.

"Calvin! Calvin! Calvin" chanted the crowds. People were holding up signs with Calvin's image and they roared with applause when they spotted him peeking out the window.

Nervously, Calvin shut the curtains and turned to his friend/ servant.

"Hobbes?" Calvin asked nervously.

Hobbes smiled. "Master Calvin, it seems as if a very jealous and bitter Miss Derkins leaked your address to the press. Your fans have been camping out for hours hoping to catch a sight of their idol."

"Idol? Have I bumped my head?"

"No, sir. Ever since you released your self-made youtube video, 'I will never, never ever build my character," it seems as if you've touched a nerve with members of your generation. Due to your influence and refreshing ability to speak your mind, children everywhere are refusing to attend school. They are watching television as long as they like- even the scary movies they show sometimes. Gone are the vegan dishes and water and only milk which were formerly staples of the dinner table. Parents are now buying pizza, cakes, ice cream, sodas, anything in order to appease their children. It seems as if the children are now in total control of their households. And an entire generation lives to show you their appreciation," Hobbes explained.

Slowly a sly grin spread upon Calvin's face. "Does this mean..."

Hobbes nodded. "As we speak your parents are out shopping for a new computer, games, video play stations, and a lifetime supply of comic books for you."

Calvin laughed, then looked around nervously. "But why? I mean my dad, he's the least cool person I ever knew. I think he was born a grown-up!"

"I'm afraid your father has had a change of heart. Congratulations, Master Calvin."

With that, Hobbes presented Calvin with a not yet released edition of Captain Napalm, and left Calvin alone with his thoughts.

For days, Calvin was really, really enjoying life. Fans followed him everywhere, threw gifts at his feet, screamed and fainted at the sight of him. His trademark haircut was now the most popular cut in the world. Even teenage girls had their dogs' manes cut like Calvin's.

(That did bother him. Even in a world of Calvin-worship, part of Calvin really really relished being an individual.)

At home, life was much different. Mom and Dad now catered to their son's every whim. Calvin had a big screen television, a computer, a stereo system, a video system with hundreds of games in his room.

He didn't have to pick up after himself. His parents did that for him.

But still, there were times he just wanted to go outside and play with Hobbes.

Not only were fans surrounding his house and backyard, but Hobbes was too busy waiting on Calvin and preparing his meals to allow himself to spend any quality time with Calvin. Yes, the servitude was nice, and a long time in coming...but somehow he just needed his friend.

Calvin decided to sneak off to the movies, but the crowds of fans followed him everywhere. They wanted his picture, his autograph, pieces of his shirt. In fact, just as Calvin had finally sat down in his seat, the fire marshal came and shut down the theater due to the fire hazard of overcrowding.

This was really beginning to suck.

He tried to go to the arcade, but the crowds again prevented him from getting anywhere close to a game.

Finally he barely managed to sneak back into his own home after battling hours of lines around his street.

He slammed the door shut and quickly locked it.

He looked over and saw his dad polishing not his bike, but Calvin's gold television set.

"Dad?" Calvin asked meekly.

"I'm sorry, son. I told your mom I'd have this ready for you..."

Calvin shook his head. "I was wondering...I thought...maybe you, me, Mom and Hobbes...we could go out to the lake. You know, camping."

Dad stood up. "I'm sorry, son. I am unable to leave. I have to answer your fan mail and arrange your schedule to keep your public appearances."

Calvin scratched his head. "But don't you want me to...don't you want me to _build my character?"_

Dad just laughed. "I'm sorry, son. You have a public who awaits news of your every move, and I cannot let them down. Maybe later we can build character."

Calvin just shook his head and stormed off to find Mom.

She was sitting in front of a computer, fixated on whatever it was she was typing.

"Mom?"

She didn't even look up. "In a minute, Calvin. I'm too busy updating your twitter feed, your facebook page, your fan site, and I have to alert the paparazzi that you will be buying underwear at Wal-Mart tomorrow."

Calvin was getting mad. "I don't care about that! I'm getting hungry. What's for dinner, anways," Calvin scowled.

"Pizza will be here in half an hour," Mom replied without looking away from the computer.

"Pizza? We always have pizza. Can't you..you know... make something?"

She sighed. "look, if you're hungry, have Hobbes fetch you some ice cream or something." With that, she went back to scrutinizing every word on the computer screen.

He saw that Hobbes was busy making brownies...uggh...Calvin could hardly believe it, but he couldn't handle one more piece of junk.

He stormed off to his room, hoping Hobbes would follow. He waited. And waited. No sign of Hobbes.

The only place he could hide from the noise of the crowds was in his closet. So he shut the lights off to his room, hid in his dark closet, and shut his eyes.

Why weren't his parents paying him any attention? Didn't they care about him anymore? And Hobbes...well...Calvin couldn't even remember the last time Hobbes attacked him as soon as Calvin walked through the entrance to the home.

He shut his eyes, trying desperately to remember, when he heard a noise.

"Calvin? Goodness, what on earth are you doing in there," Dad grumbled as he opened the closet.

Calvin ran to his dad and hugged his leg. "I'm sorry, Dad. I promise I'll build my character. I'll do my homework. I'll be nice to Suzie. I'll even eat Mom's cooking. Just make things go back to the way they were..." he tearfully pleaded.

Dad smiled and picked up his son. "Calvin, I'm not sure what's going on. I'm glad you hear you want to build your character, and as your mom worked hard on dinner, she'll be glad to hear you'll eat her meatloaf."

"Meatloaf?" Calvin sniffed. "No pizza?"

Dad shook his head. "You know that junk isn't good for you."

Calvin grinned and held on to his dad for as long as he could. Finally Dad set him down, and Calvin eagerly ran downstairs.

To his surprise, Hobbes was seated at the kitchen table.

"Why's he here," Calvin pouted.

"You were pretty exhausted. We figured that if you were that tired, maybe spending some time with Hobbes might be another way to help you relax," Mom smiled.

Calvin grabbed Hobbes and embraced him as if his life were depending on it. "Oh, Hobbes, I'm so sorry I ever got mad at you. You can read my comics if you like. You don't always have to greet me when I come home, although I'll try to not complain when you do. You can hog the bed if you want...I won't mind..."Calvin stopped and sniffed. "What's this? Dad said we were having meat loaf?"

"I couldn't find the ketchup." Mom answered. "I thought I'd fix us some tuna casserole instead."

Calvin held Hobbes out in front of him and glared at him. "Is that _sooo?"_

He could see Hobbes grinning, and before Mom and Dad could stop their son, Calvin was rolling around on the ground, wrestling with the stuffed Tiger.

"Come on now," Dad sighed, pulling Calvin away from Hobbes. "I think Hobbes can go watch tv while we eat."

As Dad walked away carrying Hobbes, the tiger just peeked over Dad's shoulder and flashed Calvin a million dollar grin before sticking his tongue out and him and wiggling his fingers behind his ears.

So as Calvin ate, he silently plotted to get back at Hobbes. Hobbes would pay for this.

He would pounce on Hobbes. They would wrestle, insult each other, bite each other, pull legs and tails...then maybe follow that up by a game of Calvinball.

Yes, maybe he wasn't rich or famous, but maybe, just maybe, his life wasn't that bad after all.

He'd never admit it to his dad. After all, he didn't want his dad to think he was, like, _building character._

The end


End file.
